Review by Stephen Coonts, author of Flight of the Intruder and fifteen other New York Times Best Sellers . (July 23, 2022, Amazon Books
This personal "Remembrance" [of the Vietnam War] stands head and shoulders above all those that I have read, which is a bunch. Mike Mullane was an A-4 pilot in VA-164 aboard USS ORISKANY during his 1967-'68 cruise, and USS HANCOCK during the 1968-1969 cruise. From college boy to seasoned attack pilot, Mike tells it like it was with an understanding that hindsight sometimes gives the most sensitive and perceptive. He came out of the war with a case of PTSD that he wrestled with for many years until he finally got help. . . .
[Dead Men Flying, a Remembrance] should be required reading for all current military aviators and all those to come. THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES. Review by Tom Beard (February 2022), Military Writers Society of America
Dead Men Flying’s [descriptions of] ... wartime missions flown in the Skyhawk and trials experienced by their pilots are as real as any ever revealed in the written word. " None of us will survive".
The arithmetic was inescapable. The squadron started with twelve A-4E Skyhawks and twenty-two pilots. After seven days, it had eight aircraft and nineteen pilots. He had over one hundred days to go. He would never see home again. Dead Men Flying is an honest, unflinching account of how Mike, the college kid, became a warrior called “Mule.” It tells of his struggles to become a Naval Aviator. He masters the skills necessary to launch and land a jet fighter bomber on an aircraft carrier. He experiences the transforming state of being when his aircraft merges with his body and becomes an extension of his will; a place where time slows to a crawl; sensory awareness extends to the horizon; and thoughts flash faster than the flick of an eyelid. Within the squadron he develops the bonds of brotherhood that are forged when the pilots must trust each other with their lives. Flying mission after mission into the heart of the North Vietnamese defenses, he pays the cost when death shatters those bonds. The descriptions of combat are immediate and immersive. They envelop the reader in the perishable art of aerial warfare, a ballet performed out of sight and mind of all but the few who were there. The descriptions are enhanced with more than seventy photographs, many taken during combat. Dead Men Flying is the story of men tested to the breaking point and beyond by unrelenting threat and losses. It tells how they stood together with unflinching resilience, courage, devotion, and sacrifice. The author flew 212 combat missions with the Ghost Riders of Attack Squadron 164 over two cruises between June, 1967 and February, 1969.
Mr. Mullane and I shared the flight deck for over seven months, he piloting an A-4 Skyhawk and me readying RF-8G Crusader photo recce aircraft for departure to combat zone, North Vietnam. His job was to curb the Communist invasion of South Vietnam by way of death and destruction. My squadron's job was to take pretty pictures for targeting future bombing raids and also pictures after the fact for Bomb Damage Assessment (BDA). In the Navy there's an acronym for everything.
Mr. Mullane's job was much more nerve-wracking and grievous than mine. He faced a dance with death on every launch and suffered the pain of losing friends by way of anti-aircraft artillery (AAA), surface-to-air (SAM) missiles, Artem Mikoyan and Mikhail Gurevich (MiG) Russian-made fighter jets and those damned procedural accidents. Our losses on that 1967-68 USS Oriskany (CVA-34)/ Air Wing 16 (CVW-16) deployment cruise were so heavy, pilots from other squadrons on other carriers began calling us "Bloody Sixteen." Final stats, according to Mullane, his call name "Mule", was 122 days of action, over 9,500 missions, including 181 Alfa Strikes, most into the Hanoi-Haiphong defense complex. One-third of Air Wing 16 pilots were casualties and we lost over half of our aircraft.
The Grim Reaper was so up-close and personal, Mullane began referring to him as "Brother Death." The mental process by which Mule Mullane accepts the probability of dying (of himself and others) and manages to remain sharp in almost daily combat is a phenomenon understood by veterans of such warfare... and very few others. Keeping such emotions in a compartmentalized bubble lessens the anguish, allowing for an appearance of normalcy but as aging veterans often discover, around the age of 40-50, they need help coping because haunting memories refuse to vanish. That's what I carry away from Mullane's recollection of what we experienced in the Tonkin Gulf a half century ago, him in the air, me on the flight deck. God bless you, sir. God bless all the US Veterans of war.